


You're Late

by VillaKulla



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Comedy, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillaKulla/pseuds/VillaKulla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While waiting for Jesse to show up, Walt reflects on their most recent cook together. Those days in the superlab can get long, and the mounting tensions had made it finally necessary to blow off some...steam.</p><p>(Set anywhere in Season 3 before Jesse's stealing, before the security cameras, and before everything goes to hell in a handbasket in general)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sodium_amytal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodium_amytal/gifts).



> For the wonderfully talented and hilarious sodium_amytal, as part of the Blue Christmeth 2014 fanwork exchange! The prompt was for 'Fluffy Walt/Jesse' and while the 'fluffy' possibly takes the occasional hit, I really hope you still find it fun overall! Merry Christmeth!:)

Jesse was late.

 

This wasn’t inherently unusual in and of itself. Not that Jesse ever tended to be _very_ late. He was never traipsing in well after work had already begun, leaving Walt in the lurch or anything like that. Ever since they’d begun work in Gus’ lab, Jesse had shown himself to be punctual in a way that had Walt honestly surprised. But knowing that Walt tended to first have coffee and settle in before getting started, Jesse just normally wasn’t on the _dot_ is all. Walt didn’t really mind, since Jesse was usually clattering down the staircase and swinging himself off the last step right when Walt was getting changed at his locker, and they’d start at the same time.

 

But now Walt was changed, sitting in a chair, eyes on the clock because Jesse was _late_.

 

He tapped his foot, starting to feel annoyed. Fifteen minutes. And it wasn’t like he could just get started by himself, like he could with a batch that was already in progress. They were starting an entirely new batch for the week, and doing step one, at an industrial level like this? It took two.

 

Unable to sit still, Walt got up and paced between the gleaming machinery. He was running lines for when Jesse showed up…whenever that day arrived. He mentally went over what kind of speech he’d give him.

 

Jesse would probably roll his eyes, Walt thought, as he began wandering around one of their vats. He would bitch, give Walt a look of disbelief and come up with some excuse of how it was ‘just by a few minutes, man, you’re freaking out over nothing.’

 

But it wasn’t about the number of _minutes_ , Walt would shoot back. It was about _responsibility_ , a trait Jesse apparently had yet to learn. This was how the real world worked, and if Jesse wasn’t prepared to honor his commitments…

 

Walt stopped and shook his head, the stock-phrases scattering. He could already practically _hear_ Jesse beginning to tune out. Maybe he should try a different tack? Looking up at the pressure gage atop the vat he was circling he paused for a moment, and then nodded. Maybe Jesse didn’t always respect _him_ , but he had at least developed a kind of grudging respect for the chemistry he was learning. If Walt made his irritation over Jesse’s lateness about the _chemistry_ instead of responsibility, then he might have more success.

 

‘Chemistry is about timing and even you should know this by now’, he mentally rehearsed as he walked by a lab table, imagining their figures: his own outline gesturing emphatically, Jesse hunched in on himself, avoiding eye-contact with Walt.

 

‘When you’re dealing with an unstable solution timing is everything, and what does it matter if you’re ‘only twenty minutes late’ when in this business? The outcome of the product can hang in the balance of _sixty seconds_ ,’ he thought, his imagined figure insistently tapping his watch.

 

Walt flinched on future-Jesse’s behalf. He wouldn’t be telling Jesse anything he didn’t already know. Jesse was more than familiar with the process and if Walt tried to school him in basic steps then Jesse would just see it as condescending.

 

So the original plan then, Walt decided reluctantly, going over to lean against the table. Make it about respect.   

 

Unless…

 

Walt looked down at the table suddenly feeling wary. Unless Jesse’s lateness was about something else. Another thing. Another thing that had happened against this very table, just last week. Walt was an idiot. It was that. It was definitely that.

 

God…a lot of unusual things had happened to Walt since his fiftieth birthday. A lot of very unusual things, things he never would have _contemplated_ let alone actually expected to happen as a reality.

 

But fucking Jesse Pinkman against a worktable last week? Top of the goddamn list.

 

Of course Jesse was late.

 

Walt groaned, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory of the… _event_ came flooding back to him.

 

 

***

 

 

“Jesse, did you check the thermostat?” Walt asked, looking up from his spreadsheets.

 

Jesse glanced over aimlessly. He’d been meandering through the lab at the end of their shift, going through a checklist for their close. This last batch was officially done and they wouldn’t be back until next week. It was late and they were tired. Tired of cooking, tired of each other’s faces, and both wanted to go home. Jesse pulled out an earbud and it swung down in an arc, dangling off his palm. “Huh?”

 

Irritation blew through Walt like a stiff breeze. He waited until it had passed, took a breath, and asked again: “The thermostat?”

 

Jesse twisted his neck, absently taking stock of the dial. “Yeah. S’fine.” He turned back to his clipboard. He didn’t look at Walt, but Walt saw him roll his eyes and make an overly exaggerated _tick_ on his checklist, with a flourish that felt like it continued off the page, swooping up and over and smacking Walt in the face with its contempt.

 

Walt straightened up from where he was calculating the final tallies, narrowing his eyes at Jesse. “What was that?”

 

“What was what?”

 

“That – “ Walt gestured goonishly with an imaginary pen, in imitation of Jesse. “That _thing_.”

 

And then Jesse _shrugged._ He didn’t just ‘shrug’. It was _that_ kind of shrug. The kind of shrug Walt had seen from students since the beginning of time. The ‘ _was my hand up?_ ’ shrug. The ‘ _I know exactly what you’re talking about but lifting my shoulders and staring dumbly at you is easier than unhinging my jaw and forming words_ ’ shrug. Kids had done the shrug a hundred years ago in one-room schoolhouses before they went home to plant crops. And they did it today before going home to play video games. Jesse had been one of those kids. And he was being that kid again now.

 

By _shrugging_ and staring blankly at Walt, blithely replying, “I don’t know, man. The thermostat’s good. I checked it.”

 

“Only _after_ I reminded you,” Walt said. He took a breath. “Jesse, if you forgot it’s okay, just say so.” But then his temporarily gentle teacher-voice was quickly shattered when he snorted and added, “Don’t pretend like you actually _remembered_ , I saw you walk right by it.”

 

“Yo I was _gonna_ go back,” Jesse said, raising his voice and waggling the clipboard obnoxiously at him. “I was just hitting up the other ones first.”

 

“Please,” Walt, in a laugh that dripped more toxins than their product. “You were spaced out and listening to that ‘music’ of yours,” he said. His air-quotes could have been seen from space.

 

“I wasn’t _spaced_ ,” Jesse said, flushing under the collar. They were both changed out of their suits at this point, and Jesse’s neck was becoming as angrily red as the t-shirt he was wearing. “I was checking this shit off, man.”

 

“You were not checking any shit off,” Walt said, getting up from his papers, eyes flashing. “Jesse look at your sheet, it’s not even half filled-out! I was watching you and you were totally out of it.”

 

“Oh you were _watching_ me,” Jesse mocked. “Homo.”

 

Walt let it roll off his back. “And this is what, only the most mindless thing to do in here? Does even that require too much of a mental effort from you, Jesse? Hmm?”

 

Jesse bristled like a cat. “Here. You wanna see some effort? Here ya go. Mr. White is a dick? _Check_. Mr. White thinks the world revolves around him? _Check_. Mr. White got lost on the way to work once because he wandered too far up his own ass? _Check_ ,” he spat out, each tick mark scraping the paper with a grating sound that went straight to Walt’s nerves, jolting them into walking over to Jesse, wearing a murderous expression.

 

Walt stalked up to him and Jesse laughed insolently. “What? Going all Heisenberg on me now? In here? This week on the Walter White story,” he said in a fake, booming, news anchor voice. “Mr. White practices his scary-walk in the hopes of intimidating his lab-partner who’s seen scarier footsteps from a fucking toddler - hey what are you _doing_?”

 

Walt grabbed the clipboard, wrenching it from Jesse’s hands, and hurled it across the lab where it spun like a Frisbee, clipped-pages fluttering, before smacking straight into their condenser, falling to the floor with a clatter.

 

“Oh. Yeah. That’s mature,” Jesse snorted.

 

“Mature?” Walt sputtered angrily. “I didn’t even know you could pronounce mature.”

 

“Yeah well I can pronounce _‘dick’_. Good thing that’s the only word I need to know around you.”

 

Walt stepped towards him, irritation simmering on high heat. Jesse walked backwards, not so much from feeling cowed, but more to egg Mr. White on. His red shirt was like a matador’s cape, and Walt was a cartoon bull with steam coming out of its ears.

 

“Oh so name-calling really _is_ the only thing you apparently know how to do,” said Walt. "Here, let me try. Infant.”

 

Jesse’s back hit one of their lab tables and he stopped walking, staring at Walt scornfully.

 

“Douche,” he shot back.

 

“Imbecile,” Walt hurled in response.

 

“ _Prick_.”

 

“ _Dolt_.”

 

“ _Jackass_!”

 

“ _Simpleton_!”

 

And with the irritability that had laced the entire day finally reaching a boiling point, Jesse reached out and shoved Walt. Hard.

 

Walt gaped for a moment and smacked Jesse’s arms. And then both began scrapping in a way that would have had Walt’s old neighborhood friends laughing from the lack of coordination, or indeed effort. They didn’t want to _hurt_ each other per say…just. You know. Unwind. In a way that happened to involve Walt shoving Jesse back into the worktable while Jesse grappled ineffectively at Walt’s face.

 

“Fuck off, you lunatic,” Jesse gritted out, scrabbling against Walt.

 

“Will you…double check…your list?” Walt grunted, getting Jesse into some bizarre forward-facing headlock.

 

“Alright alright, Jesus, I’ll remember the fucking valve next time,” Jesse hollered, beating at Walt’s shoulders.

 

“IT WAS THE THERMOSTAT,” bellowed Walt, pushing him harder against the table, chin digging into the top of Jesse’s shoulder.

 

“OH BITE ME,” Jesse yelled.

 

Walt had always been impulsive. So it really didn’t feel hard to dip his head the fraction of an inch to literally bite Jesse’s smart-alecky neck.

 

It was like someone had plugged Jesse into a socket. A current rocketed its way through his entire body and he wrenched Walt’s head up and away from him with both hands, fingers digging into Walt’s face as he stared at him with electrocuted eyes.

 

“Whaaaaat the fuck?” he gaped, mouth hanging wide open.

 

Walt stared at him, eyes dark, breathing heavily.

 

“Psycho,” said Jesse, looking at Walt uncertainly.

 

Walt stared back undaunted. “If you’re gonna be a contemptuous little shit, be prepared to take some responsibility for that smart mouth of yours,” he growled.

 

Jesse sputtered. “Smart mouth? Yeah okay. Here’s your smart mouth.” And Walt really shouldn’t have been surprised when Jesse dragged his face down, clamping his teeth around Walt’s own mouth and biting him _back_ , teeth stinging Walt’s lips. Jesse pulled away, teeth dragging Walt’s bottom lip with them until it popped out like an elastic.

 

“Yeah,” Jesse yelled. “Think it’s funny? Loser. What if I’d said ‘blow me,’ huh? What then?”

 

“What if you did?” Walt yelled back.

 

“ _Blow me_ ,” Jesse shouted.

 

Walt paused. And then his hands were going to Jesse’s jeans, yanking them open, and getting his fingers under the waistband of Jesse’s boxers. In one swift motion, the boxers, the jeans, and Walt were all sinking to the floor. And without even stopping to process the movement, Walt leaned in, fixed his lips around the tip of Jesse's cock, and sunk his mouth over its entire length.

 

"Oh my fucking  _God_?" he heard Jesse croak out somewhere above him.

 

Apparently Jesse had already been sporting an adrenaline-semi during their ‘sparring’ session. But the very second he was sheathed in Walt’s mouth, Walt actually felt him swell and engorge until the tip of his cock was pushing against the roof of Walt’s mouth.

 

“Holy shit” gasped Jesse. Walt smirked around Jesse’s cock and took him in deeper, lips pulling at the hilt, head buzzing from being so on edge.

 

He sucked all the way off Jesse’s length, fingers gripping Jesse by the hips. He looked up at Jesse whose mouth was stretched wider than Walt’s had been just a few seconds ago, taking stock of Walt kneeling in front of him. Walt just gazed back up at him defiantly. And when Jesse nudged his hips forward, either by instinct or intent, Walt went right back in. He had a point to prove.

 

This time instead of fairly enveloping Jesse with his mouth and swallowing him down, Walt lightly licked his way up Jesse’s shaft, the tip of his tongue painting leisurely circles against the ridges of Jesse’s erection.

 

He laved and mouthed and teased his way up the entire, tongue circling the weeping head a few times. He took a moment to lap against the slit, experiencing a moment of satisfaction when a few tangy beads of pre-come began to bud there. Swiping them to the side with his tongue, Walt dipped his head, taking the tip into his mouth again and pulling off. Jesse whimpered and Walt moved back in, sliding a little lower down his length, and dragging his mouth back up. A little lower. Pull off. Even lower. Finally when Jesse’s cock was hitting the back of Walt’s throat, nowhere else to go, Walt clamped his lips around the base and began sucking Jesse off vigorously.

 

Jesse’s hands flew to the edge of the worktable, fingers in a white-knuckled grip over the shiny metal at each wet drag of Mr. White’s mouth over him.

 

“Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god…”

 

Jesse's legs trembled at every push and pull of Walt’s tongue, which was dragging along the underside of his cock. And when Walt pulled off to suck one of Jesse's balls into his mouth, reaching up to briskly rub the heel of his palm into Jesse's cock at the same time, Jesse's knees practically buckled. 

 

Walt listened to the litany of breathless _Oh my god_ s swirling above him, pretty sure he caught a weakly gasped ‘ _smart mouth_ ’ at one point. He rolled his eyes while taking Jesse's cock into his mouth again, but couldn’t help feeling pleased at the acknowledgement. It was no lie.

 

And focusing on the task at hand, Walt gripped Jesse harder, head bobbing again and again over Jesse’s cock, mouthing him, tasting him, working him, until Jesse was thrusting unsteadily up into his mouth in quick, jerky motions.

 

“Oh God I – Mr. White. I have to – I’m gonna –“

 

Walt hummed his approval, and the buzz around Jesse’s cock had Jesse throwing his head back, gasping out curses.

 

“Ohhhh Jesus Christ,” Jesse cried out, his hips stuttering.

 

Walt sucked him harder and Jesse just let go, his hand flying to the back of Walt’s head. He pressed him hard against his groin, shuddering all over as he came violently into Walt’s mouth, spurts of come streaking down his throat. Walt swallowed every drop easily. The taste was nothing compared to chemo.

 

After Jesse finally stopped shaking, Walt gently slid his mouth off of Jesse’s softening cock, instinctively nuzzling it a little breathlessly. It was Jesse's bluff he'd been calling, but it wasn’t like it had done nothing for him either.

 

He stood up brusquely while wiping his mouth, sucking any lingering drops off his fingers. He glanced over to Jesse as though just noticing him.

 

“What?” he shrugged.

 

Jesse ogled him, leaning back against the table still panting, completely stunned.

 

“…Mr. White?”

 

Walt blinked. “Yes?”

 

“I – we just – you just –“

 

Jesse gawked at him, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish until finally the words that spilled out were:

 

“You just _blew_ me!”

 

“You _said_ to blow you!” Walt exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

 

“Yeah well I didn’t think you’d actually _do it!_ ” Jesse yelled.

 

There was a silence as they stared at each other, Jesse still standing in front of the table, jeans pooled around his ankles, t-shirt still on, everything in between completely naked, his limp, spent cock sticking to his thigh. Walt looked down and Jesse followed his gaze. They both looked up at each other at the same time, lips quivering.

 

And immediately lost it.

 

Jesse was sucking in almost more breaths than when he was buried inside of Walt’s mouth. His shoulders shook as he covered his mouth, barely muffling his hysterical laughter.

 

Walt was bent over double, gasping for air, his eyes streaming. The whole day, their whole argument the whole – everything had just been so beyond completely ridiculous.

 

They finally straightened up after what had felt like a good couple minutes of overwhelmed laughter, any tension that had built up throughout the day immediately drifting away, mingled with the steam of the laundry and dissolving into the atmosphere.

 

Jesse glanced over at Walt who had his hands in his pockets. Jesse gave him a considering look. He was still grinning but it looked like he was contemplating something.

 

“Huh,” he finally got out a little wonderingly. And with a slightly dazed laugh he gave Walt an appraising smile. “Well fuck me,” he huffed out in disbelief.

 

Walt’s head snapped up. Did Jesse mean it as the expression? Or was he following the pattern of his previous taunts and meant that Walt should actually –

 

Walt took stock of Jesse’s mischievous grin, eyes twinkling gamely at him…

 

Yeah. Definitely the second one.

  

 

***

 

Running his hand over the worktable, Walt remembered how desperately he’d gripped it last week, one hand braced on the surface, the other hoisting Jesse up until he was sitting on its edge, legs wrapping around Walt’s waist, hands going frantically to Walt’s belt buckle.

 

And my God had it escalated quickly. The previous adrenaline that was fueled by tension had been replaced by something more akin to…need. A need that had Jesse gasping out, “back pocket,” and Walt desperately reaching down to the heap of denim on the floor, working his hand into one of the pockets of Jesse’s jeans and retrieving a condom in an old, crinkled wrapper, which had probably been gathering dust in Jesse’s pockets since Walt didn’t even know when.

 

Long enough apparently, going by the way Jesse had pulled Walt hungrily back towards him, his thighs tightening where they were braced on either side of Walt’s waist. He’d raised Walt’s hand to his lips, working the fingers into his mouth and sucking them messily up to the knuckles, eyes going dark, making Walt shudder. Walt had caught on quickly and removed his slicked fingers, reaching down and working them clumsily into Jesse, who’d hissed at the burn and who seemed to be trying to hold onto Walt’s shirt for dear life, and rip it off him at the same time.

 

And before Walt could even process _anything_ that had led up to it, he had a lubricated condom being rolled onto him, and was slowly sinking into Jesse. He’d pushed achingly into the tight body lying atop the table as Jesse gasped out a string of expletives, hair falling damply into his eyes, hand braced over Walt’s chest, heels digging into Walt’s back, rolling his hips in a way that was inviting Walt to just go for it.

 

And go for it Walt did.

 

Running a hand over the back of his head now, Walt let out a heavy exhale. That had been…well they’d lost composure around each other on extremely numerous occasions – right? What was one more?

 

Sex was…well it wasn’t _that_ weird in the grand scheme of things. I mean they’d already fallen into a hundred situations that were _beyond_ bizarre. Compared to being locked in a trunk together, performing a methylamine heist in ski masks, barreling down a highway in an RV for their lives…when put that way, something as simple as ‘sex’ seemed practically mundane.

 

Although there was nothing mundane about the way Jesse’s eyes had fallen shut in bliss when Walt had pulled out, sliding torturously and deliberately back into him. There was nothing mundane about the lightning rod of _want_ that had shot through Walt when he felt Jesse clenching around him. And it was _really_ not mundane when Walt had moaned and collapsed breathless on top of Jesse, still shuddering from the aftershocks of pleasure, their damp bodies rising and falling together. Walt had turned his head towards Jesse and Jesse leaned in. They hadn’t quite been kissing, but their mouths were panting together, breathing each other in, with their faces nestled together almost as an afterthought.

 

A mind-blowing afterthought that had had Walt getting hard anytime he so much as thought about it over the weekend.

 

Walt should have kissed Jesse properly in that moment. He kind of wished he _had_ kissed him, strange as it might have felt. He wondered when the last time anyone had kissed Jesse was, let alone touched him. Despite the condom in the back pocket, Walt was willing to bet there hadn’t actually been anyone lately, at least not since –

 

Walt didn’t even let his mind continue down that path. He was moving forward from that night. He had to let the flame be snuffed out, before Jesse could follow it blindly like a moth and burn to cinders for his efforts. They were moving forward.

 

But still, Jesse had just seemed so – so _desperate_ to have someone touching him. Anytime Walt had run a hand over Jesse’s chest, Jesse would arch up into it as though trying to absorb it. He’d kept curving into Walt like he wanted to disappear. And when Walt had absently slid a hand through Jesse’s hair mid-thrust, Jesse had rubbed his head into Walt’s palm, almost like he wanted to be petted.

 

Walt’s heart clenched. He didn’t think anyone had touched Jesse like that in a while. And hey, Walt knew what that was like. The kid was probably so desperate for the feeling of someone else’s skin on his that he didn’t even care if the rough, calloused skin happened to belong to Mr. White.

 

Walt leaned against the fateful table. God knows what Jesse had been thinking about over the weekend. They’d parted last week without looking at each other, both more than a little blindsided by the experience. Jesse had probably showered the second he got home, Walt thought. Embarrassed by a moment of weakness, cringing about it all weekend…

 

Unless, Walt thought, suddenly feeling cold. What if he’d relapsed? To forget about it?

 

 _Shit_ , Walt thought, hands shaking. God, how could he have been such an idiot. Of course. Jesse had probably been so completely gobsmacked by the whole thing. However engaged he’d seemed in the moment, come on, Walt knew perfectly well which head both of them had been thinking with.

 

But as for the aftermath, Walt could picture Jesse _perfectly_. Lying back on the sofa in his living room, suppressing images of Walt leaning over him, lighting up and trying to smoke the memories away…

 

And that’s all it would take for Jesse to relapse, filling his veins with poison before the last one could wear off, a steady stream of drugs slipping through him, and Jesse slipping new ones right back in. Jesse was probably at his house right now, curled up on a mattress in a hazy stupor, trying to break out of the fog long enough to find another vein to stab…

 

Walt hadn’t even thought to text Jesse over the weekend at all.

 

Oh God…Walt had to get over there. He wrenched himself away from the table, running towards their lockers, heart pounding. He fumbled with the handle, frantically trying to get it open so he could grab his car keys. Awful images kept racing through his mind: Jesse’s eyes going cloudy as he pushed down the plunger of a syringe, Jesse throwing his head back as the toxins raced through him…

 

Walt was sure he’d burst in to find Jesse lying twisted on his living room floor with purple lips, a needle sticking straight up out of his arm. Or find him face-up on his bed, eyes unseeing, a trickle of vomit seeping out the corner of his mouth…

 

“Dude?”

 

Walt almost had a fucking _heart attack_ as he whirled around and saw –

 

Jesse. Standing straight in front of him with a shopping bag dangling from one hand, a steaming coffee in the other, eyeing Walt with a bemused expression. Alive.

 

It felt like every single atom in Walt’s body relaxed as Walt let out a rattling sigh, closing his eyes for a brief moment, actually _flooded_ with relief.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Jesse was still staring at him confused.

 

“Yo, you see a ghost or something?” he asked Walt.

 

Walt’s head was still spinning. He couldn’t even find the words.

 

“Jesse?”

 

“Yes…?” Jesse drew out awkwardly.

 

“You – you’re –“

 

_alive oh God you’re alive you’re still here don’t scare me like that again I thought you were gone how could you do that to me_

“ – you’re _late_!” Walt burst out.

 

Jesse rolled his eyes and Walt’s heart rolled with the motion that proved more than anything that Jesse was here.

 

“Is that it? By like, twenty minutes. You’re freaking out over nothing.”

 

Walt couldn’t have remembered his rehearsed response if he tried.

 

He took in a deep breath, fixing Jesse with a scowl. Jesse brushed past him and shrugged off his coat, hanging it in his own locker.

 

“You’re more than twenty minutes late, where the – where the _hell_ were you?” Walt asked.

 

“Nowhere, man, I just had some things to pick up, it’s no big deal.”

 

Walt’s heart was still trying to beat its way out of his chest, so it wasn’t without a certain amount of hysteria when he asked Jesse, “Picking up _what_?”

 

Jesse blushed as he turned to Walt.

 

“Well I just thought…”

 

Jesse reached into the drugstore bag and pulled something out, handing it to Walt.

 

Walt stared at it, dumbfounded. A bottle of lube.

 

Jesse looked a little guilty but was grinning as he continued, “…in case I forget to check the thermostat again?”

 

Walt’s mouth fell open as he stared incredulously at Jesse, Jesse whose sheepish smile was turning into something that resembled a smirk as he raised an eyebrow challengingly at Walt…

 

Walt marched over to him, closing the space, and hooked a hand around the back of Jesse’s head, crushing their lips together. He took a moment to savour the muffled laugh of surprise against his mouth before parting his lips, and kissing Jesse thoroughly.

 

Better late than never.


End file.
